The Grand Marshal's Promise
On the platform in the barrier city, a man slowly stepped forward. His massive build made his age irrelevant. Golden hair swept back. Golden eyes. He looked like the personification of a lion. His voice soon echoed through the speakers. The citizens filling the square fell silent, and the broadcast was being transmitted through media outlets in every barrier.
"Seven years ago, we faced a catastrophe that swallowed our civilization. But we survived, and within these chosen walls, we built a new world."
A hologram appeared beside the platform, sequentially displaying aerial photos of the six barrier cities, with Lumen Guard at the center: Valhalla Disk, Rain Code, Fraction-6, the Omotenashi sector, and Nantigar.
"We must advance once more. The time has simply come. The Aria of today is not the Aria of before. It will further stabilize the interior of the barriers and, in the long term, greatly aid in reclaiming the world beyond."
He spoke briefly, waved his hand once, and descended the platform with a benevolent smile. Cheers crashed toward his back like waves. That was the Grand Marshal—a figure of envy. Like a hero emerging in chaotic times, the one who quelled the turmoil. That was why, even after reintroducing Aria into the barriers, he enjoyed overwhelming support from nearly everyone.
"Brigadier General, won't it displease the Grand Marshal that you didn't attend?"
Sophie asked cautiously. Jack gave a wry smile, rose from his seat, and stared intently at the screen.
"At least, the Grand Marshal I know isn't that petty."
"I see."
Sophie wore an expression that said she'd expected the brigadier general's cynical attitude.
"You're a proxy of the barriers too, sir. You can't act carelessly."
Proxy. Humans enhanced through Luminot serum injections. People treated them like heroes from old comic books. The military had propagated and exploited that image to stabilize the barrier cities early on. It was straight out of a movie.
Jack irritably turned off the screen.
"Yeah, right. An old man with a childish title like proxy. It's almost laughable."
White Wolf. The epithet symbolizing his proxy trait. Even that embarrassed him. But without such propaganda, uniting humans from diverse cultures would have been impossible. And proxies had indeed proven their worth.
"The total war made people idolize proxies even more. It's burdensome."
After fleeing to the barrier cities, they'd boasted about discovering a code to reclaim the outside, using that mess to promote proxies further. So people still admired them. Even though venturing beyond the barriers had ultimately failed.
"Even failures yield lessons."
"Ha, yeah. We have to think that way. It's been three years since the total war failed. Time flies."
Jack smiled cynically.
"Just when the management bureaus seemed stable, they bring back the AI that caused the apocalypse. Things are really looking up now."
"Are you uneasy about the Grand Marshal reintroducing Aria, sir?"
"I can only assume the great Grand Marshal has his reasons."
Jack knew well that the position of Grand Marshal wasn't handed out lightly. And indeed, Mikhail Chernenko was the first proxy, with decision-making and power that seemed to transcend humanity. All of that had elevated him to the role.
The brigadier general sighed deeply, as if to say handle it yourself, paused, then spoke in a low voice.
"...How's Bell doing?"
Sophie, sorting documents, answered with a bitter expression at Jack's weary question.
"Her performance as a proxy remains flawless. Response time, physical recovery rate, shooting accuracy—all in the top 1%. But... I can't even remember the last time we talked."
"What made her like that? I'm not the sentimental type, so I just can't understand."
"She probably had confidence at first. That she could clean up beyond the barriers. Or protect anything and everything. Everyone knows proxies have near-heroic power."
"Proxies aren't heroes or gods. They're just humans who stepped beyond ordinary limits."
Jack clicked his tongue sharply. Sophie smiled softly.
"She's only 18 now. And she was even smaller when we first met. But that child faced too many harsh things. Especially the civil war in Nantigar..."
Sophie trailed off, as if she didn't want to recall it either.
"Yeah. I get it. She's probably resenting me for not stopping the total war."
"If she didn't resent you, she might not have endured."
Jack sighed shortly and slumped into his chair. In a slightly weakened voice, he asked,
"Do you resent me, by any chance?"
Sophie replied in a gentler tone.
"Of course not."
There wasn't a hint of hesitation. Jack stretched his arms and chuckled.
"Good to hear. Lately, I've been rethinking my decision to make Bell a proxy."
Sophie smiled warmly, as if comforting him, then turned to take two cups from the teapot. A faint tea aroma filled the office as her skilled hands worked.
"Without that decision, Bell wouldn't have survived in this world."
Jack quietly closed his eyes.
'I want to become a proxy too.'
That was how it started. He'd thought it was something she'd picked up somewhere, a phase that would pass. But the plea had no end. It was as if becoming one proved her existence. Later, she'd begged desperately. Human experimentation dependent on Luminot—Jack, who knew all about it, had opposed it to the end. But as he watched her eyes dying day by day, he couldn't refuse anymore. Die like this, or die like that. For someone who'd lost hope, life wouldn't continue.
Her father Hector Bell's name absent from the survivor list in the barriers was likely a trigger. He couldn't reject her plea. Her eyes had died once already then.
If she became a hero, things would change. Jack had thought there was no other way.
"Yeah. If she hadn't become a proxy, it might have been worse."
"Yes. At least because she's a proxy, she can throw herself into her role. We should be grateful for that."
Sophie smiled faintly, a touch of sadness on her face. No parent surpasses their child, Jack thought, amused. And she wasn't even blood-related. Well, neither was he. At some point, the girl had become one of the purposes in his life. So he hadn't let her join the proxy project alone. The daughter of his former subordinate, his wife, and a great man. He knew full well how dangerous it was. That's why he couldn't leave her to it irresponsibly. He hadn't worried if his aging body could withstand the change. Whatever happens, happens—it was the first time he'd given up like that. The researchers refused, but he pushed through. He hadn't told Sophie, knowing she'd try to stop him.
Was it divine prank? Or sheer coincidence? Jack opened and clenched his fist.
He now bore the epithet White Wolf and was a rare old proxy alongside the Grand Marshal.
"I didn't expect to become a proxy myself."
"You're saying scary things, Brigadier General. Doing that behind my back—irresponsible."
Sophie’s composed expression seemed laced with faint anger. Jack replied apologetically.
"Yeah, I'll apologize again. It was rotten of me to my adjutant of over a decade."
"If it happens once more, I'll discharge. Remember that."
Jack waved his hand in defeat.
"No more secrets from now on. It'd lose all meaning if you discharged, Major."
Meaning. At that word, Sophie deftly suppressed an emerging smile.
It was irresponsible, but being a soldier before, becoming a proxy—it had naturally secured firm influence in the hastily formed military. Sophie spoke as if wrapping up the situation.
"I'll pay more attention to Tiny... no, Bell."
Jack silently downed his tea, recalling the blue eyes he’d eventually face again. Even the image of the cute Bell smiling had faded from memory.
Lumen Guard—the last barrier built before the catastrophe, now called the First Barrier. Here gathered the Grand Marshal and his guard, the management bureau, and core organizations like the tech and strategic planning departments. The war hadn't ended, but ironically, the city now seemed fairly stable.
A girl in a pitch-black uniform walked the management bureau corridors. Silver hair cascading to her waist. Bangs reaching her eyebrows. Blue eyes. Her delicate face with large eyes was quite pretty, but it bore no trace of a smile, as if she'd tasted all the world's despair.
"Waaaaah!"
Cheers erupted distantly as the Grand Marshal's speech ended. She clicked her tongue. A hollow laugh escaped her.
"What's so great about it? Idiots."
Her reflection in the window glass showed her still-small stature, as if time had frozen that day. Her eyes held deep emptiness instead of a child's sparkle. The black uniform made her seem even more somber—like an officer's garb from the old German Empire, ornate and authoritative. This uniform, for proxies hailed as heroes, was made of flame-retardant, bulletproof fibers optimized for high-speed combat, functional as battle gear. Thus, it symbolized the military's identity. Beings between monster and human. Belonging to neither.
Bell ignored the cheers she no longer wanted to hear and lightly placed her hand on the small panel by the archway door. A system voice promptly sounded.
Identity confirmed. Combat Response Unit, Code Red Eye, Bell. Access granted.
The strategic planning department door slid open smoothly. Staff in office attire passed by, but Bell headed straight to the counter, her face showing no anticipation, fatigue, or fear.
"Oh, hi!"
A sudden voice made Bell halt. A girl with black bobbed hair and a smiling face, wearing the same proxy uniform. Spotting Bell, she didn't hide her delight, questions pouring out.
"How've you been? You went on that support mission last time—any injuries?"
Bell slowly turned her head. The female proxy around her age always greeted her upon meeting, year after year. A pretty girl with an ever-smiling face. Round eyes staring like a puppy's. For some reason, it irritated her. What's so fun about everything for you?
Anyway, you'll suddenly die or vanish, leaving me hurt.
So don't even think of entering my head.
This thorny thought was Bell's staunch defense mechanism. Grateful as she was that this proxy persistently approached with expectation despite the pushback, Bell couldn't even recall her name. Ridiculously, only her proxy epithet came to mind. Clear Voice—symbolizing a brilliant mind, from the tech management department.
Bell hid her weary heart and replied in an emotionless tone.
"None of your business."
One word. A perfunctory response. Embarrassment flickered on the other proxy's face.
"...Still, we're people, Bell. Aren't you tired? They say rest when you can!"
You wouldn't understand that rest hurts more.
Bell nearly laughed inwardly, her mind twisted to the core. The girl before her seemed pathetic. To prevent further talk, she cut her off.
"Good work."
Even as Bell walked away, the girl called after her, "Take care!" But Bell entered the briefing room without reply. A hologram screen appeared.
As usual: mission area, requester, brief descriptions. Among them, the code and epithet assigned only to proxies.
"...Another useless proxy."
Bell grimaced in disgust.
Adolf Mandel, the proxy with the epithet Heavy Sword, was from another barrier, Valhalla Disk. Currently outside the barriers on a simple reconnaissance mission, he'd retreated to a cathedral and become isolated. Yet his expression brimmed with curiosity, eyes darting around.
Stained glass shards blanketed the floor. Gray sky peeked through the cracked dome ceiling, ready to collapse. The cathedral's sanctity had long vanished.
Tall stature, black eyes, black hair. He might seem cold, but his sparkling, curious eyes looked childishly pure.
"Still, it's a cool place..."
As he murmured softly, barrier military and management bureau regular army soldiers bustled with reorganization. His pitch-black proxy uniform stood out starkly against the regulars.
"Lieutenant Adolf Mandel, sir?"
At the call, Adolf finally turned. His eyes met a fresh second lieutenant commanding the squad—prim regular army combat gear, neatly trimmed bob hair. Lieutenant Samantha, tension evident.
"Yes, Lieutenant Samantha."
The boy smiled warmly. Samantha stared blankly for a moment. He looks so much younger than me.
Proxies felt novel to her. Humans transcending limits via the enhancement project. Hailed as the barriers' hope and heroes in media. Ironic that, except for the Grand Marshal and Brigadier General William, all proxies were teens to early-mid twenties.
But perhaps too overexcited? The mission had gone awry. It was supposed to be simple. Samantha swallowed a deep breath inwardly. Doubting herself, the management bureau's strategic planning had assigned a proxy, deeming it risky.
Hiding her hurt feelings, Samantha asked,
"Any injuries?"
"No, I'm fine. And you, Lieutenant?"
His warm, gentle tone. Proxies were kind to everyone, like true heroes.